#I have swung at the hornets nest and now it’s time for bed

[geejaysmith]

Actually, fictional atrocities are inherently more interesting when women do them and dare I say, even kind of hot.

[fischerfrey]

hphm fic: 'til tonight do us part

fandom: harry potter: hogwarts mystery

pairing: mc/merula snyde

word count: 2.2K

summary:

A party in the Slytherin common room leads both Verna and Merula to confront some things about themselves...

“You don’t know shit,” was what Merula spat back at her and Verna didn’t know what she said wrong this time. “You prance around like you own this school and think you’re so damn special!”

“That’s fucking rich, coming from you,” Verna arched an eyebrow at her nemesis. “You’re the one proclaiming to anyone who will listen that you’re the most powerful witch at Hogwarts.”

warnings: underage drinking, swearing, merula being mean

author’s note: no proof-reading, we die like men! aka i wrote this thing at 3am in my notes app and english isn’t my native language.

hphm fic: 'til tonight do us part

“I’m not sure about this,” Ben Copper said and caught up to Verna. He had been tailing behind her and Charlie for the past several staircases. “Maybe I should’ve stayed in the common room studying with Rowan…”

“Cheer up Ben, this is gonna be fun,” Charlie attempted but Ben still didn’t look convinced. He had been trying hard to step out of his comfort zone with varying degrees of success.

“Hush the both of you, we’re almost there.”

The three of them were approaching the Slytherin common room entrance in the dungeons and the utmost care was needed. Parties in Hogwarts were notoriously difficult to organize if you wanted anyone but your own house members to attend. This one had coordinated times at which someone from Slytherin would let students belonging to other houses in. Barnaby had agreed to open the door for Verna, Charlie, and Ben at 9.30.

“Why are we even going to a Slytherin party…?” Ben asked as they reached the entrance.

“Because Barnaby invited us and I can’t say no to him, it’d feel like kicking a puppy,” Verna answered and glanced around to make sure no one else was in the corridor. “Besides, I think all of us need to let out a little bit of steam.”

“You are aware that most Slytherins think we’re the worst?”

“Yeah, that’s part of the fun,” Charlie said as the door to the Slytherin common room swung open.

“Verna! You guys made it!” Barnaby greeted them with open arms, spilling a bit of the contents of his pint.

“Well Ben almost stayed behind to study but I’m very persuasive!” Verna announced and dragged both of her friends inside past Barnaby.

“Don’t say the S-word Verna, it’s forbidden,” he said with a grimace.

“Oh shit, sorry.”

They had all been extremely tied up with studying for their O.W.L.s for the past weeks and it did sound appealing to just forget the exams for the night. The common room was dark and illuminated by a green glow. Verna wasn’t sure what its source was, but it did create certain menacing flair for the party. The music was loud, and many of the attendees were dancing to its beat.

“So, where’s the fire whiskey?” asked Charlie and Barnaby pointed them to the direction of the drink selection before going off to talk to some of his friends.

“See, Ben, no worries, there are plenty of people from other houses in here,” Verna said observing Tulip and Tonks chatting with some 6th year Slytherins, as well as Penny and André sitting on a couch, heads close together, obviously deep in conversation.

“Is that… a thing now?” asked Charlie.

“Last week I asked André if he was seeing Penny and he said no,” Verna muttered.

“So, you think it’s a new thing? Or is André just full of shit?”

“Guys… I hate to interrupt your gossip club but…” Ben yanked Verna’s sleeve to get her attention. She turned to look where Ben was glancing. Merula Snyde was walking towards them, looking like a storm cloud.

“Oh, here we go…” Charlie whispered, and Verna gently punched him in the arm.

Merula stopped short in front of Verna and glared at her. She seemed taller somehow and Verna noticed she was wearing platform shoes. “What the fuck are you doing here, Malinda?”

“I came to party.”

“Nobody wants you and your loser friends here.”

“Barnaby invited us,” Verna said simply and waved at Barnaby, who waved back, smiling.

“Lee couldn’t read a room if it punched him in the face with a book made for toddlers.”

“Don’t be rude Merula, we’re just here to get drunk and hang out with our friends.”

Charlie saw this as an ample opportunity to poke the hornet’s nest and added: “At least we have some of those.”

Merula snapped her death glare to Charlie. “Shut up Weasley.”

“Anyway! We were just about to go talk to Penny, so I’ll be seeing you Merula!” Verna interjected, handed Ben and Charlie drinks, and ushered them towards Penny and André. “Just pretend I don’t exist, if you can,” she added with a wink, grabbed a drink for herself and followed her friends. When she glanced back, Merula was still standing there, staring daggers at her back. Verna couldn’t help but be amused.

~

It turned out both André and Penny still vehemently denied being involved with each other romantically in any shape or form, so Verna let it slide. They spent a good couple of hours drinking, talking, and dancing. Verna hadn’t realized how much she needed a night off until she finally got one. Between her studies, detention, and trying to find the Portrait vault, her free time was sparse.

“Vernaaaa… can you bring me a glass of water?”

She was called out of her thought by Penny, who had, to be fair, downed quite a few drinks by then.

“Sure, sit tight,” Verna got up and navigated to the table filled with various drinks. Penny had not been herself ever since her sister got trapped in the portrait and Verna knew she was frustrated by how long it was taking to break the curse.

~

As she was filling a cup with water, she heard a familiar voice behind her: “Water? That’s weak.”

“Hi Merula…”

“Don’t tell me you can’t hold your liquor,” Merula mocked as Verna turned to face her. Her makeup had smeared just a little in the corners of her eyes.

“It’s not for me,” Verna tried to move past Merula. The latter stepped in front of her to block her path.

“Maybe you should take Haywood to sleep, she looks like she’s about to pass out any second now.”

“Maybe you should mind your own damn business,” Verna suggested and started to feel annoyed.

“What? I’m just worried about my fellow students.”

“You’ve literally tried to kill me.”

“Bygones,” Merula smirked and took a sip of her drink.

“Maybe after you apologize.”

Merula had the audacity to laugh, she truly was infuriating. “Don’t hold your breath, Malinda.”

Verna had had enough and pushed her way past Merula, ignoring her grunt of protest. She was beginning to think Merula enjoyed pissing her off.

~

“Did Merula give you trouble?” asked André once she got back.

“No more than usual.”

“Maybe we could curse her hair to fall off or something,” suggested Charlie lazily, having taken up most of the couch for himself, leaving just a small spot for Penny to sit in and sip her water.

“Chaz, as much as I would love to do that, I think we’re better off just keeping away from her tonight. After all, I’m actually supposed to get along with her for professor Rakepick’s sake.”

“Aren’t the both of you prefects…?” André asked, amused.

“Well yes, but that doesn’t really mean anything, I mean Merula is a prefect too!” Charlie protested.

André shook his head and returned to his conversation with Ben. Something about his gobstone collection.

“Guys… I feel a little sick…” came a quiet voice from Penny’s direction.

“Shit, don’t throw up on me,” Charlie quickly sat up and pulled away from Penny’s immediate vicinity.

“Okay, maybe you should call it a night,” Verna said and set her drink down on one of the tables. “C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your common room.”

“Oh… you don’t have to…”

“Shush, it’s no trouble… c’mon,” Verna took Penny’s hand and pulled her up. She swung on her feet for a second or two but seemed to be able to walk at least a little bit. “Charlie, can you tell Barnaby to let me back in in like… 10 minutes?”

Charlie saluted her and said: “Sure thing.”

That meant there was approximately 50% chance he’d forget and Verna would have to miss the rest of the party.

~

Getting Penny to walk in a straight line was a bit more difficult than Verna originally thought, but they managed to get out of the Slytherin common room and headed towards Hufflepuffs’.

“I don’t think I should have gone to that stupid party…” Penny mumbled. “I feel guilty enough as it is doing anything other than researching the vaults…”

“We’re doing everything we can, Rakepick is trying to find a way to break the curse right now,” Verna said, trying to sound confident but honestly, she wasn’t sure which one she was trying to comfort, herself or Penny.

“You don’t understand, Bea is all alone…”

Verna bit her lip. She knew Penny was taking this hard. “Penny, I get it. My brother is missing, I want to find the Portrait vault just as much as you.”

Penny let out a stifled sob. “Merlin, Verna I’m sorry. I didn’t think…”

“I know, I know it’s okay…”

~

Verna managed to get her friend safely to the Hufflepuff common room and started to make her way back to the party. She felt a little bit drunk and, being absolutely honest with herself, she would’ve preferred to feel a lot drunk. Before she could make it halfway back, she heard another pair of footsteps in the silent hallway. She was expecting to see other people heading to bed from the party, but instead it was Merula Snyde, who rounded the corner.

“Are you following me, Snyde?” Verna asked.

Merula’s face transformed into a scowl. “Stop flattering yourself, Malinda.”

“Well, I just think that you mysteriously run into me a lot these days…”

“Shut up.”

Verna lifted her hands in the air as a sign of surrender. “Suit yourself, can you let me back into the party since you’re out here?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I despise you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? Is that what you have to say?” Merula asked and her hands balled into fists.

“I don’t really care, honestly. You’ve been on my case for four and a half years, I know you hate me,” Verna explained. She was fed up with Merula’s constant provoking.

“You don’t know shit,” was what Merula spat back at her and Verna didn’t know what she said wrong this time. “You prance around like you own this school and think you’re so damn special!”

“That’s fucking rich, coming from you,” Verna arched an eyebrow at her nemesis. “You’re the one proclaiming to anyone who will listen that you’re the most powerful witch at Hogwarts.”

Merula blushed and that made her even angrier. “I don’t do that anymore!”

“Sure, but you used to, while I’ve always just wanted to mind my own business.”

Merula took a few quick steps closer to Verna. “You think you’re better than me, huh?”

“That’s so not the point.”

“Then what is the point? Please enlighten me, illustrious Verna Malinda.”

“The point is, that you’re mean. And arrogant. You go out of your way to make people feel bad,” Verna made sure to stress each point, so they’d maybe sink in. “I’ve tried to be your friend more than once.”

Merula let out a mocking laugh. “I don’t want to be your friend.”

“The what the devil do you want?”

Something blazed in the purple of Merula’s eyes at the question, and before Verna could react, the other girl had pushed her against the wall. Vaguely, Verna thought about how easily she could free herself from the grasp, but she found herself not really wanting to. Oh.

“Merula what- “

“Shut up,” Merula grumbled. “Just shut up, you’re ruining everything!”

Confused, Verna studied Merula’s features. The colovaria-spell keeping her eyes purple had started to fade out the littlest bit and if you looked closely, you could see specks of brown. Merula had tiny little freckles dotted across her cheeks and nose that Verna had never noticed before (If her gaze also dropped down to Merula’s lips, then that was neither here nor there).

“I don’t want to fight,” she told the shorter girl. Merula’s expression remained unchanged. Verna sighed. “Just let me back into the party, I promise I won’t bother you.”

“No.”

“Fine, I’ll go to bed then, this isn’t worth it.”

That seemed to change something for Merula again, because she moved, grabbing Verna’s shirt to pull her closer. Verna tried to ignore the excitement in the bottom of her stomach, but it turned out she didn’t have to, because Merula didn’t hiss out any more thinly veiled threats or insults. Instead, she kissed her. There was something ferocious and hungry about the kiss that made everything inside Verna twist into knots. She pulled Merula closer by her waist and found herself not giving a damn if someone happened to walk by right then. For a blissful moment, Merula had her hands in Verna’s hair and was kissing her like she actually wanted to be there with her, and then just as quickly as it started, she pulled back again. The girls stared at each other in the silence of the corridor. Verna’s heart was beating its way out of her chest.

“Barnaby’s gonna open the door for you,” Merula only said and then turned her back to Verna, hurrying to the opposite direction along the corridor. Verna stood there for several seconds, dumbfounded. She raised her fingers to her lips and wondered whether she’d just imagined that. Slowly she forced her jelly-like legs to walk back to the Slytherin common room.

 ~

Like Merula had said, Barnaby was there to let her in, as cheerful as ever. Verna went back to her friends who had migrated to talk to Tonks, Tulip, and Liz. Charlie handed her abandoned drink back and assured her no one had messed with it. Verna wasn’t feeling particularly up for the party anymore. Her mind kept wondering to the dark corridor, messy mascara, and hot, fire whiskey-laced breath on her skin.

fin.

if you read the whole thing i’d love to hear what you think! this is the first time i’m actually publishing any of my fics, despite having written them for years so this is kind of like a moment for me, personally :’)

[octalove]

IX: Bullets (And Other Things That Don’t Go Back)

(Batgirl/Red Hood)

Description: Reader and Jason are out for revenge- it doesn’t go as planned. Previous.

TW: Description of gore!!! Seriously.

This was the Bowery. Darkness became blackness here; the shadows were mountains too steep to be climbed. Each clinical electric light on the Estate didn’t seem to make a dent in the depth of them. The air was suffocating, smelling of smoke and sewage. I knew what kind of people were tucked within it; a nest of hornets. The kind of people who kill women in their homes- their beds.

The kind of people who killed my parents.

Jason was beside me, helmet yet to be pulled on as we watched from the shadows, taking in the composition of the place. His warmth and sturdy presence was reassuring; I felt nervous, and I knew why. This was personal.

At the heart of this hornet’s nest was Adriano Cliffs. He’d successfully broken up the families and rekindled a war, blaming the Pellegrinos- Kane Pellegrino specifically- for Penelope’s death. With no marriage, the families were once again enemies and competitors, and pointing the finger at Penelope’s husband was the salt in the wound that finally spurred Olivier D’amici.

Jason told me that she signed Cliffs’ deal at her granddaughter’s funeral.

He was here, tonight. The old Estate was bought with D’amici money, and inside were a dozen armed men on the D’amici payroll. Drug packaging, maybe. I wasn’t too concerned with the particular crimes taking place at the Estate; there was only one crime I wanted revenge for.

The objective was simple; find Cliffs. Whatever Red Hood did thereafter, I wouldn’t stop him. Cliffs had no children, no family. Nothing but his depraved ambitions, and as far as I was concerned, the world was better off without them.

The inside of the Estate was something out of ancient Greece. White marble floors and limestone Corinthian pillars- including a Greek-style statue in the center of the large foyer. It depicted a dramatically-posed bearded man who appeared to be reaching skyward, with the direction of his upturned eyes, a cloth swirling around his form by grace non-existent wind; ever-frozen in time.

On either side of the grandiose room were large, winding stair cases leading to a second floor with intricate railing. It was the kind of house that was built before the Bowery fell to crime and poverty. Even in the dark, with all the boxes, crates, and plastic-covered furniture, the house was a work of art.

We could hear voices carrying from back rooms and hallways, as laymen busied themselves with packing the crates with who-the-hell-knows.

Red Hood was incredibly quiet for the two-hundred pounds he was. He fell into shadows seamlessly, so still you couldn’t see the motion of his drawing breath. We moved together, common tongue of small nods, and barely perceptible hand signals. Slow movements.

Toe to heel. Steady breath. Nice and easy.

Red gave me a slight head tilt, and headed for the East wing, while I crept down the main hall. A stark, stand-alone light was in the enormous living area, illuminating some internal construction- remodeling of some kind. There was paint, ladders, and tools strewn about. I moved forward cautiously, inspecting the many corridors that the living room made way for. The narrow hallway was nearly pitch black, but I heard voices from behind a couple of the closed doors. Hushed, urgent. I pressed my ear to one.

“...What’d he say?”

“Dunno. Somethin’ bout how Cliffs got some guys want him dead for this.”

“For what? Workin’ wit the old lady?”

“Nah, not that... says Cliffs was the one who bumped off the granddaughter.”

I strained to hear them more clearly, my ear and hands pressed to the cool wood.

“Hey!”

I whipped around just as two men rushed toward me in the dark hallway. I stood, and charged them before they could draw their weapons, hitting one in the temple, and kicking the other one into the wall with concentrated force.

I turned back around just in time to see the two men I’d been eavesdropping on bursting from their room, pistols raised. I ducked as one fired a shot- one that rang like an alarm and echoed off the marble and limestone.

So much for quiet.

I slid low, and swept my leg beneath the shooter, knocking him to the ground, then delivered a left jab to the throat of the other. It was too late- I had the attention of the entire mansion now- hearing shouting and footsteps coming from all directions. As three more men appeared from the corridor, I darted back into the open living room.

More gunshots came from behind me, and a reflexive cry escaped my mouth, as I rushed for some form of cover in the nearby structures. I ducked behind an old drywall just as spray of bullets cascaded along it.

Something grazed my right cheek, and I knew the laceration was there even before I felt it. I drew a sharp breath, back pressed against the wall.

Something that sounded like voices, shouting, could be heard outside. Gun flashes ripped through my peripheral vision, hitting the man that was firing on me, who recoiled and made a disgustingly grim sound as he fell.

The wound on my face stung with ruthless irritation. My hand moved absentmindedly to cover the flesh and keep it together, but I felt the immediate fervid heat of cascading blood flood onto my palm, and through the spaces in between my fingers. It had to be deep.

“Fuck,” I whimpered. “Fuck. Fuck!” I pulled myself from my hiding place as a goon ducked behind it, not having enough time to notice me before I delivered a mean right hook.

My knuckles hurt upon the impact, but then, my whole body ached, making it hard to tell. Lines of pain blurred. It frustrated me that I felt helpless. Floundering in what was sure to be a terrifying and inglorious death, full of bullets, to become another corpse for a team of men to find and send back to the City Morgue. Burned in a cremator and reduced to nothing.

The sensation of my own blood pouring over my arm made me panic. There was so much of it, and it was so thick, and hot. I listened for more adversaries, light-headed from the loss, and the adrenaline.

As I pulled myself back into the fray, I halted in the open room, just in time to find myself eye level with a gun, staring down the barrel like my own funeral.

My gaze trailed from the gun, along the arm of my assailant, and settled on the familiar face I’d been inches from at the D’amici party.

The last time I’d been this close to him was when I was afraid I was going to make him spill his wine. His blue eyes were hard and full of hate. My stomach dropped, because I knew it was the last thing Penelope ever saw.

I was going to die.

I held my breath, closed my eyes.

But nothing came. There was a thud, and a cracking noise. As I opened my eyes, he was on the ground, and Red Hood was standing over him.

“Wrong fucking move, Cliffs.”

Irately, he kicked his stomach. Twice. Then, he circled, swung low and grabbed Cliffs by his hair. He made a struggling sound and tried to grasp at Red’s armored wrists, to no avail.

“You wanna put a bullet in another girl, that it?” His voice was full of unraveled anger as he dragged Cliffs. Dropping him forcefully, then picking him up again.

“You picked-“ He slammed Cliff’s head into a marble pillar. The sound was soft, but I flinched, and then shrunk under the sound of Cliff’s agonized cry.

“The wrong-“ He slammed it again.

“Fucking-“ Again.

“One.“ Again. The last blow was a wet, squelching sound as all the flesh had broken away, revealing the skull beneath. When his body finally crumpled lifelessly, a torrent of blood followed, flooding across the marble. His face was featureless- pieces of broken skull fragments indistinguishable from the teeth jutting out in all directions, flesh and hair melding with the blood. My eyes were glued to it.

I let out a shuddering exhale; a breath I’d been holding since the barrage began. I hadn’t even realized I’d sunken to the floor until I felt the cold marble beneath my hands, steadying me.

Red Hood leaned back in a tired way, catching his breath, before turning on me. I was sure for a moment I looked afraid. He gave no indication that he noticed.

“Can you walk?” His voice was harsh, jolting me back to a reality I didn’t know if I wanted to face. Automatically, I nodded.

He knelt down, his leather glove tipping my chin as he surveyed my face.

“Who shot you?”

“I... I don’t know..” I breathed. My mind was still catching up, reckoning with the fact that I was alive. “He’s dead.” I added.

Satisfied with that conclusion, Red turned his wrathful gaze on the back door, where some echoing gunshots could still be heard.

He stood, and pulled me to my feet as well. I only swayed a little, before I composed myself with some desperate sort of intrinsic resolve.

Pull yourself together. You’re Batgirl, for God’s sake.

He held up a gloved hand as we reached the exit, scanning the darkness. Then, together, we paced into the open night.

I wanted it to be over. I wanted to run, so I moved quickly over the concrete patio. There was a small garden in the back- dead trees and bare bushes from the harshness of winter’s height. The chill of which pricked my skin.

Suddenly, Jason grabbed my arm, pulling me to a halt. He tugged my body closer with ease, muscles tight with tension. He surveyed the dark garden, and as I followed his gaze, only then did I notice the silhouetted figure at the back gate.

I was petrified. I crouched, and knew my mask and hood covered my face, but I felt utterly visible. Luckily, Nightwing seemed more interested in Red Hood, who stood there, equal opposite to him, looking like a pissed snake about to strike. I believed it. I’d just seen it. Very abruptly, the tides of my fear shifted- so much so that the pain in my cheek dulled to a lulling ache. I was afraid for Dick.

“Jason,” Nightwing said. It was an odd thing; I knew that everyone knew who he was, but all this time it felt like my knowledge. My secret. My Jason. Now, night and day were crashing into one another, and my illusion was wavering. It was all wavering.

“Jason, I’m sorry. What happened to you- I’m so, so sorry.” The emotion in his voice made my chest hurt. “But you can’t keep doing this. Just talk to us. I miss you, little brother.”

Looking at him, I knew Red Hood was all static; charged up and willing to take out the aggression on the nearest medium of opposition. Nightwing may as well have been talking down a brick wall.

“If you don’t move, brother,” Red’s robotic drag was a sneering mockery and an earnest threat all at once. “I’ll move you.”

I was cemented to the darkness that concealed me, and still reckoning with my wounds, I didn’t know if I could help in a fight. I wasn’t sure who I would fight. Nightwing drew closer, his footfall against the garden’s gravel and the rustling wind were loud in my still-ringing ears. Red shifted his weight, blood-coated hands hovering above his holstered guns.

I stood, slowly. What the hell kind of Batgirl was I if I watched them tear each other apart?

But then, I wasn’t Batgirl, was I? Tonight, I wasn’t the hero. Under all the blood and black clothing, I was just me.

I reached out, my hands grasping at the hem of Red’s jacket sleeve, holding the leather tightly, like if I let go, the night sky would fall from where it hung above us. I pulled softly, a wordless plea, tugging him away from the jaws of a fight, wherein no victory lie- not for anyone.

He stood firmly, and drew his gun. In the time it takes to blink, he fired a shot at a goon who was emerging from the house’s back door. Nightwing and I both jumped, and then he looked back and forth between Red and the man’s body.

After a second more of resistance, Red resigned, turning to usher me into the steep shadows. Nightwing didn’t give chase in favor of trying to save the man’s life-if he could- and we peeled away into the dark.

*

“Jesus. Fuck... fuck.” I was shaking. Muscles trembling from the adrenaline and heart racing from our near-miss with Nightwing, and the way Cliffs’ eyes and blood vessels and skull looked smas-

“Hey. Easy.” My hands were in Jason’s. I must have missed when he shed his helmet, gloves and jacket as we entered his safe house. His skin was warm, his hands still as death. “Easy, little bird.” His eyes were so dark and deep, they looked like the grim, black waters of Gotham River. It was impossible to identify the multitude of emotion that lay swallowed below his torrent gaze. Concern, apathy, vigor, anger, all of it. More, that I couldn’t begin to understand. It wasn’t fair.

“Sit down.” He said. I did, pulling my gaze from his and effectively breaking the spell. He inspected the bullet graze on my cheek, the skin dark with blood.

“I’ll get some gauze.” He muttered, turning away. I focused on my breathing as he pulled off his holsters and set them with a loud clatter on a metal desk he had. He sighed.

“Damn. I wanted Cliffs alive a little longer.“

I looked at him, but it was a full thirty seconds before I comprehended what he said. After that, there was sudden knock in my mind.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” I breathed, before I could think it through.

He studied me considerately. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you just- everything went- you... you destroyed him. You didn’t stop.”

“Don’t tell me that actually surprises you.” I drew a breath, calming down enough to try and gather my thoughts.

“I don’t know. That’s... That’s not who I thought...“ It came out before I could think.

“Who did you think I was?”

I let his mind fill in the blank, because any answer I supplied was going to sound stupid. I didn’t know who I thought he was. Not good and not evil. He was decidedly human. I couldn’t look at him any other way, no matter how else my perception swayed depending on my company.

“A murderer?” He asked, an edge to his voice like a blade heating up in embers. I stayed silent. “A criminal? A psychopath?”

I bit the inside of my lip. A small taste of coppery blood.

“That was- I don’t... I did. I did think that. But then you... then you were Jason.” I said. He scoffed at that.

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me you didn’t see what I’d done before you started meeting me. Oh, no- wait, wait- you didn’t really think you could fix me? You’re smarter than that.” He was pissed now, and the look in his eyes was what I imagined Alphonso Kuznetsov saw before the coffin lid slammed shut.

“Baby, I’ve been a charity case before, remember? Just like you.”

“That’s not what I am.” I managed to fire, leaning forward. Maybe just to remind him I was worth my weight in a fight. But maybe I wasn’t, when it came to him. “I earned my place-“

“As Barbara’s replacement? I don’t think so.”

I let out a dry, frustrated laugh, and turned my head, letting the urge to yell and scream burn in my chest. A deep breath to smother the flame. Then, I retreated back to the previous point.

“You’re right. I did know what you’d done, and I knew what you were capable of. But that was before all of this.“

“And what is ‘this’?”

This- this this. This neurotic back and forth. Ebbing into him and flowing back to my family just to feel like whoever was more important to me was whoever I was with at the time. I wasn’t on the fence, I was the fence. I had no right of my own, no place on either side. I could offer mediation. Mediocre comfort. Nothing more.

“This. Us. Working with... with you and Batman, and I don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong.”

“You don’t know?” He sounded disbelieving. “Face it, babydoll. He doesn’t give a shit about you, or what you ‘earned’. You’re a tool to fuel his fucking self-serving ambitions, just like your parents were.”

“Don’t talk about them.”

“Why? They worked for him and so do you. Only difference is they worked for Bruce and you work for Batman.” His tone was dangerously condescending. I was meeting ice with fire, and it wasn’t working. “You’re a brand. Just like Robin. Doesn’t fuckin’ matter who wore the mask before, or who’s gonna wear it next. You’re nothing to him.”

A long, strangled moment passed. I’m not even sure if he was awaiting a prolepsis, or thought I’d given up, but both of us were left to rot in the apprehension.

“I’d hate to die like you did.” The quiet, vicious acidity that dipped into my voice threw even myself off kilter. A consequence of months of keeping all these goddamn secrets. My head felt like some dark, noxious lightning in a bottle. The edge in my tone was just a cork coming loose.

He met my gaze, and for the first time, looked like he couldn’t tell what I was thinking. His eyes narrowed a little, his muscles tense, coiled deep.

“But just because he forgot about you doesn’t mean he’ll forget about me.”

His infuriating silence that usually encouraged me to open up now hung in the air, tremendous, and growing still, until it was bigger than both of us. I held my ground, even as his eyes bore into me with eerie, hollow fury.

[silver-wield]

On Edge

As the city of Edge expanded out and around them, Cloud and Tifa spend their days building up both Seventh Heaven and Strife Delivery Service. It was hard work and an occasional thankless task, but they persisted because it was also a labour of love.

After Barret left on his quest to find purpose in his life, leaving Marlene in their care, things quietened down for the longest time, until Cloud brought home a young boy called Denzel he'd found wandering around the ruins of Aerith's church. He'd contracted Geostigma, a fatal and highly contagious disease, but that didn't stop Tifa from welcoming him into their home.

A few nights after Denzel's arrival during a slow point in service, Tifa overheard a few locals talking about a shady network, a black market, that seemed to appear from nowhere. The person pulling the strings had everyone at their beck and call and no one could explain how. Standing at the far end of the bar, pretending to rinse a glass out, Tifa's eyes widened as she heard a name she thought she'd never hear again. Don Corneo? She glanced at the two barflies from the corner of her eye. Labourers, the pair, they came in at the end of every week to celebrate a job well done. Reliable sorts, so she knew she could trust what they said. Wonder if Cloud knows? She looked at the clock. He'll be back soon. With a nod to herself that it could wait until she saw him in person, Tifa turned back to serve her customers with a warm smile and cold drinks.

~*~*~

“Hey, Cloud! You're back!” Denzel beamed up at him, as Cloud came through the doors.

Tifa came out from behind the bar carrying four plates. “Just in time for dinner,” she said to him. “Everybody wash up first.” She looked from Cloud to Denzel and then Marlene, who nodded. As Cloud passed her, she added, “There's something we need to talk about, but not with the kids around.”

Cloud paused and frowned. “Okay...”

Head tilting as she watched him go, Tifa also frowned. He sounded worried. Does he know about Corneo already? Maybe I shouldn't bring it up. I'm sure Cloud can handle it. Deciding not to poke a hornet's nest when she didn't need to, Tifa put the dinner down and went to grab cutlery.

Dinner passed in a haze of pleasant chatter about everyone's day. Denzel asked Cloud as many questions about work as he could think of, but often his one word answers weren't enough so Tifa filled in the blanks. Marlene showed Cloud her arithmetic book and bragged about becoming an accounts clerk for the bar.

“You've got a patient teacher,” he said to her, looking at Tifa.

“Only sometimes,” she replied in a teasing tone.

Cloud ducked his head a little and said, “Hoo boy.”

After dinner, Denzel felt well enough to play outside for a while, so he and Marlene went out with strict instructions to return before the street lights came on.

Cloud gathered up the empty plates and took them over to the sink where Tifa already had the water running. “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Lost in thought, it took a moment for Tifa to hear his question. Then, she glanced up at him. “Hmm? Oh, it's nothing now.”

Cloud's brow creased as he began to pout. “Right...” He put the plates in the sink and turned away. “Guess I'll be in the office.”

Is he upset? “Cloud?” Tifa put her hand on his upper arm, stopping him from leaving. “Is something wrong?”

Cloud shook his head. “No. It's just I thought you wanted to talk and now you don't. It's fine.”

It doesn't sound fine. Sighing, Tifa took a step closer to him and laid her forehead against his back. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.”

Cloud placed his hand over Tifa's. “It's fine. I'm not upset.” He fell silent for a long moment, then drew in a deeper breath before saying, “If something's wrong you can rely on me. You're not in this alone.”

Tifa smiled and wrapped her arm around his waist. “I know.”

“Then, tell me what's the matter?”

Chuckling, she realised some wires crossed in their conversation. We can work on that. Moving around to face him, Tifa said, “It wasn't anything the matter with me. I heard Don Corneo's still alive and I was going to ask you about it, but then I thought what if you were already handling it?” She bowed her head, adding, “I didn't want to assume you hadn't heard. You're out in the world more than I am.” Waiting in silence to see what Cloud would say, Tifa was surprised when he put both hands on her shoulders. She looked up at him. “Huh? You're smiling?”

“Doesn't matter,” he replied, pulling her into his arms and holding her close. “I hadn't heard about Corneo,” he continued, speaking in a low voice, “but I can deal him if you want.”

Would he eventually bother them? Tifa wasn't sure. He only came after Avalanche because Shinra posted a reward. If the rumours were true, only the Turks and a few loyal administrative staff remained. Reeve reappropriated much of the company and turned it into the WRO: the World Regenesis Organisation, dedicated to protecting and preserving the planet and its people. But what about the regular people down on the ground? The WRO's focus is rebuilding. Should we really leave a threat like Corneo running around without check? “I don't know,” she murmured. “What do you think?”

“You're always saying we should get to know the neighbours.”

Tifa giggled. “That's not exactly what I had in mind when I said that, but it works.” She looked at him and smiled. “Want some help?”

Cloud nodded. “Sure, why not?”

~*~*~

It wasn't hard to run Corneo to ground in a newer part of Edge than where Cloud and Tifa lived. His tastes were just as overblown and ridiculous as Tifa remembered. “How did he even find all these materials?” she wondered, as Cloud rang a doorbell.

“I can guess, but you won't like it,” he replied, scowling.

Tifa shuddered. “Reeve would be impressed with his procurement skills, but not his methods.”

“Hmm.”

The door opened and a man with a scar running down his face poked his head out. “What?”

“Here to see Corneo,” Cloud said, placing one hand on the hilt of his sword. “We don't have an appointment.”

“Get lost.” As the door began to close, Cloud drew his sword and jammed it into the gap.

“Ah! Get lost!”

“Tifa.”

“On it.” Tifa grabbed the door with both hands and pulled. The man lost his grip and it swung fully open.

“Like I said,” Cloud repeated, taking a step forward, “we're here to see Corneo.” He continued to advance, forcing the bigger man to back up until both he and Tifa made it inside.

“We're old acquaintances,” Tifa said from behind Cloud.

“Yeah, do whatever,” the man replied, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Thank you very much!” Tifa passed Cloud, then beckoned him after checking the coast was clear. “Corneo spent all his money on trappings, huh? No lackeys anywhere.”

“Hmm...” Cloud's eyes darted around, keeping a look out for sudden attacks.

They made it all the way to Corneo's inner sanctum without seeing another person.

“Guess you were right,” Cloud said to Tifa, as he pushed open the double doors and walked into Corneo's office.

“Then, how is controlling everyone?” Tifa shook her head. “It doesn't make sense.”

“Maybe—watch out!” Cloud grabbed Tifa's wrist and tugged her to safety as a hidden goon leapt from the shadows brandishing a knife.

“Surprise!” Several more appeared.

Pulling her behind him, Cloud drew his sword. “Good to go?”

“Always!”

After making short work of Corneo's thugs, Cloud and Tifa moved past the office and into the back room.

Tifa sighed and shook her head. “I must be seeing things. This looks just like his room at Wall Market.”

“With a couple new additions,” Cloud replied, crossing to the far wall and examining a collection of photos lining it. “Asshole.” He ripped one down and shoved it in his pocket.

“Cloud?” Who's the photo of?

“No biggie.” He looked around. “Where's Corneo?”

“That scumbag. Did he escape like last time?” Tifa balled her fists.

The sound of a toilet flushing came from behind another door.

Cloud glanced at Tifa, seeming to deliberate something, then shook his head. “We'll wait 'till he comes out.”

Tifa's eyes crinkled at the corners as she ducked her head and smothered a laugh. “Thanks.”

By the time Corneo emerged from the bathroom, Tifa had taken a seat at Corneo's desk with Cloud leaning against it beside her. Both smothered their surprise as a thin, pasty man wearing a faded red velvet dressing gown appeared. Most shocking about the change in his appearance was the wheelchair.

“Guess he didn't weasel out it totally after all,” Cloud commented. “You look like shit.”

Corneo stopped and looked up. “Oho, my little Avalanche kittens. Come for a visit, have you? Well, I expected you sooner, but I heard you'd gotten caught up in your little business venture.” Corneo continued wheeling himself around the room until he reached his bed. “Little help? I take it you've incapacitated my men?” When Cloud took a step in his direction, Corneo sneered. “Not you, her.” He pointed at Tifa.

Cloud blocked the way with his sword as Tifa got up from the chair. “Forget it.”

“Oh, I wasn't going to help,” she said, as she placed a hand on his arm and gently urged him to lower his sword. “I was going to kick him and see if he's faking.” She gave Corneo a bright and very false smile.

“Be still my beating heart!” Corneo put both hands to his chest. “How could you think I'd lie about something this serious?”

“Because you're a snake,” Cloud replied. “What are you up to in Edge?” he added, coming straight to the point.

“Up to? Me? Why nothing.” Corneo smiled. “I'm just a businessman seeking new opportunities in the new metropolis.”

Tifa could feel the lies permeating the room. “And what kind of opportunities would those be?”

“What's it to you? I'm not hurting anyone. I'm just going about my day. You're the ones who ruined me so I have to start over, remember?” A vicious look crossed his face as he fidgeted in the wheelchair.

Crossing her arms, Tifa said, “You brought that on yourself, and you'll bring worse if you don't behave.”

Corneo got a saucy look in his eye. “Oh, will you punish me?” he asked, voice dropping an octave.

Tifa repressed a shudder. “Sure,” she said in a bland voice. “Cloud, you still have that bat with all the nails in it, right? That'd make a perfect paddle.”

Corneo's shudder was clearly one of pleasure. “Promises, promises.”

Cloud bared his teeth at Corneo and took a step forward. “Now look—”

“All right, all right.” Corneo put his hands up in surrender. “I'll behave. Wouldn't want your boyfriend getting jealous, am I right?”

Tifa nodded, as Cloud said, “Right.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He'd never admitted he was her boyfriend before. It made her feel strangely shy. She noticed his cheeks turning red as he glared at Corneo, so she ducked her head and tried to focus on the task at hand.

“Oh, you two are cute. Once I build a new coliseum you'll compete, huh? Really bring in the crowds, especially when they hear former champion Cloud has a new lady on his arm.”

“Not new,” Cloud snapped.

What's this? Tifa looked at Cloud again and this time he seemed embarrassed. Who is Corneo talking about?

“We don't have time for your bullshit. Stay out of trouble or I'll finish the job the Turks started.” Cloud was already sheathing his sword and turning to go.

Tifa took one last look at Corneo and followed.

~*~*~

Back at Seventh Heaven, Tifa trailed Cloud into his office and noted his desk needed tidying again. She frowned at the medical text book littered with notes. Is he looking for a cure for Denzel? Her gaze softened as it tracked to him. “Cloud?”

“I wasn't with anyone else in Wall Market,” he said, keeping his back to her. “They misunderstood. They thought that Aerith and I...”

So, it was Aerith with him. “Aerith fought in the coliseum?”

Cloud nodded as he turned around. “We needed money for that dress she wore to the audition.”

She'd never asked about the series of events that led to Cloud appearing in Corneo's dungeon in a gothic style dress. She hadn't ever pictured him like that, so it was a huge surprise when she realised it was him under all the makeup and trappings. Why did he come, anyway? “I know we said we'd drop it,” she began in a hesitant voice, taking a step towards him, “but, you never told me why you went through all that.”

Cloud glanced at her, then ducked his head and smiled. “How else was I supposed to rescue you?”

“Rescue me?” Maybe she suspected that was the reason. She hadn't really thought it through at the time. She'd been so focused on getting info out of Corneo that Cloud's purpose sneaking in eluded her. “Is that why you came?”

“Of course it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You think I'd go through that much for anyone else?” He dug his hand in his pocket and withdrew the picture he'd swiped from Corneo's earlier. “Souvenir.”

Tifa stepped closer and looked at the picture. “He took photos?” She looked into Cloud's face with dismay. “Then, that wall...”

“Is how he controls people,” Cloud finished with a nod. “Monsters like that always have an angle.”

“Shouldn't we do something?” She took the photo from him and replaced it with her hand.

“Corneo's the type to step in his own shit. He'll slip up sooner or later.” He squeezed Tifa's hand and  shrugged.

“I guess so. It just feels wrong to let him run around all over town when things are just starting to settle down.” She sighed, posture sinking.

“Hey,” Cloud wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “if you let it get to you, then he's already won. You think I'll let that happen?”

That's right. Cloud will take care of things. Corneo won't ruin what we're working so hard to rebuild. “Mm, thanks.” She leaned her head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I always know I can rely on you.” She peered at the photo in her hand. “So, how did you end up in a dress?”

Cloud chuckled shortly. “Aerith and Andrea Rhodea's doing.”

That was enough information for her to make a guess at how things went. She'd gone through similar at the Gold Saucer. “Thought you didn't dance?”

“I only dance with you,” he replied, kissing the top of her head.

She giggled, feeling her cheeks heating at the memory. He'd come so close to kissing her during their performance, it still sent tingles through her whenever she thought of it. “Shame we can't get Andrea to come take over from Corneo; he'd be the better choice,” she said, trying to deflect from how flustered she'd become. Her eyes drifted towards the cot Cloud set up in the office for those late hours when he returned and didn't want to risk waking her. It's the middle of the day. The kids could come home at any time. We really shouldn't. She snuggled closer and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“Tifa?” Cloud tucked her hair behind her ear as he whispered her name. “Wanna dance?”

Tifa giggled again and answered with a shy nod.

[imacrowcawcaw]

Treasure Ch. 2 (Penntin)

(Ch. 1 on Tumblr)  (AO3)

Summary: 

Quentin fucks up a spell (Penny may or may not have also helped/hindered).

Quentin is the reason why everything smells like the Bog of Eternal Stench and Penny can't see.

Quentin’s run-amuck brain brings all sorts of problems to the table.

Quentin is starting to make Penny feel funny in his chest (and his pants).

Fuck Quentin, man.

Notes: Okay so I have been binge-watching like a crazy lady and gotten up to the middle of season 3 (which is FAST for me) so this is almost hard to write, knowing things that have happened… but also fun to take it back to a simpler time, in a way. I’m putting this roughly at episode 10 era, I think? Some stuff has happened, but they’re not on any time-entrenched quest right now. 

Also, the spell they did? Google translate (eek). I tried my best, but I couldn’t find something that seemed fitting in any online spell books so I made my own to suit my purposes. So sorry if you speak Azerbaijani and this is wrong, I just kinda picked a language.

One last thing: I am still not sure about updates. I know I posted this chapter about a week after the first, but that’s because I’m on spring break and am, as I have said, OBSESSED. The next chapter might be tomorrow, it might be two weeks from now, I don’t know. But I’ll try not to let it hang too long!

@penntin

-----

“Uh, should we go to the infirmary?”

Penny sighed and rolled his eyes. “No, Q, we should not. Let’s just go through the rest of life blind and unable to smell anything other than that god awful-”

“Okay!” Quentin snapped, surprising him a little, and looked up from where he was kneeling at Penny’s feet. “Look, I’m sorry that we somehow messed up. I don’t know what it was. But whatever the hell happened, clearly we need to stick together. So can we just, I don’t know, get along for a bit?”

“Hmm…. No.”

Quentin huffed but shakily stood up anyways, keeping a hand on Penny’s body the whole time; Penny thought about knocking him in the jaw when he felt fingers running from his knee all the way up to his ribs. Instead, he let Quentin do it - he liked breathing clean even more than personal space - and tried to ignore the odd shiver that ran up his spine. 

They grudgingly maintained contact, by arm or back and once by Penny yanking Quentin’s stupid hair, as they gathered up their belongings. Quentin was still a nervous, confused mess as he babbled mentally about what could have gone wrong. Penny grit his teeth at the panicked monologue and answered each suggestion that popped up in his head with a terse “no”, “maybe”, “don’t be dumb”, or “better not be”.

----------

The girl at the infirmary sighed when she saw them. Penny couldn’t say he blamed her; both of them had been in here. A lot. Together, usually. Because they either got hurt by each other or on the other’s behalf.

“What is it this time? I don’t see any blood…”

Penny grunted. What a fucking day. At least there wasn’t any blood, he had to concede (though, if he had to spend another minute with Quentin…). He followed her along to the room he usually ended up in, dragging Q by the wrist until they reached the bed. 

She busied herself with something on a clipboard while Penny stood with a death grip on Quentin’s hand. Any looser and the guy would start pacing like a madman, he could feel the desire in his head. And wasn’t this just fucking annoying? It was over, they weren’t gonna lose each other, could he put his goddamn wards back up?!

“So, what’s the problem, then?”

She blinked expectantly, and Penny had the brief thought that she was very beautiful. Tilted eyes, dark hair, a pointed, pale face and very pink lips.

Quentin gave him an odd, almost alarmed look - like he was worried about something Penny had said - but he ignored it. He hadn’t said anything at all; Coldwater must have hit his head hard when he tripped like an idiot.

“This one fucked up a locator spell,” he said, jerking Quentin’s wrist in his grasp so the guy lurched forward a bit. “We’re fine if we’re touching, but the moment we let go there’s this smelly, blinding fog. Also, I think he hit his head cause he won’t stop looking at me.”

He didn’t like how she was looking at him -- like he had just started speaking Tagalog instead of English. Were those really such weird symptoms? But he knew he hadn’t been speaking gibberish, at least, because Quentin nodded in shameful agreement. Though, he had heard a ‘your fault, too’ somewhere in his head. 

“Shut it, asswipe,” he hissed. Then he turned to address the confused lady again. “Look, can you just get Lispon. Please?”

Since when do you say please. 

Penny glared at Quentin and sat back on the bed, not bothering to hide his smirk as Coldwater stumbled and landed half on top of him. They both half-heartedly shoved at each other and settled onto the hospital bed, legs pressed together. He reached for a glass of water that had materialized on the bedside table and accidentally ceased contact, the smell hitting so sudden he could barely contain the bile in his throat. 

Quentin squealed - fucking squealed - and Penny looked back at him with a start -- he was completely clear. Every greasy strand of hair, every zit on his ugly mug, the shocked look in his watering eyes. They stared at each other and the smell stopped and the fog melted away, like a shitty adventure movie at the peak of it’s quest; treasure located. 

He scowled and knocked their knees together, bringing the rest of the room back into light. Lipson came hurrying around the corner, heels clicking, and Penny sighed. He didn’t feel good about this. 

----------

“Interesting. Very interesting.”

Penny wanted to murder Dean Fogg. He wanted to murder everyone. He especially wanted to murder Quentin, but that wasn’t really new. Right now, though, Dean Fogg in particular could go fuck a hornet’s nest along with his loathed “roomie”.

He grit his teeth against what was very clearly a bad steal of cinema doctors’ lines and shifted in the wooden chair. It creaked in the most irritating way - purposefully tortuous, awkwardly long and broken up, never quite coming to an end - and he was ready to murder the entire faculty right now.

The only thing that kept him from leaping up and snatching the tumbler of whiskey out of the Dean’s hands, if nothing else, was the fucking magical chain wound around his and Quentin’s wrists. Cause that was just the icing on this foggy, shit-scented cake. 

“So you don’t know what you did?” the Dean asked them.

Penny bristled. “Man, if we did, do you think we’d fucking be in here?”

Fogg shrugged and raised his hands in a placating gesture -- Penny hated that. He hated people trying to make him forget his anger when he was justifiably upset. Hated it. Especially when it was people with more power trying to tell him to be satisfied with the little they gave him.

Answers. For once at this fucking school I just want a straight answer. 

Yup, agreed. I wouldn’t have asked like Penny but, man, we just want answers. What did we do?

Had… had Q just responded to him? To his thoughts? That had never happened -- it wasn’t supposed to happen. Sure, Quentin’s thought diarrhea leaked all the time but HIS was not supposed to. He was the tightest warded psychic on this fucking campus! Loose-lips over there shouldn’t be able to break into him. 

Oh shit, really? Sorry dude, I’m not trying to. 

He had thought that it was just Quentin’s shitty wards, but if they were having a mental conversation here, as in a two way street where he was fucking exposed, this was not good. At all. It was also very annoying -- like, seriously, universe? Of all the people to be chained up to and mentally communicating with, it was Quentin? 

“Ahem, Penny?”

He blinked back to concentration as the Dean leaned forward and stared at him through those kinda-creepy-kinda-cool glasses. Why the fuck was everyone staring at him? He was not at fault here!

Well, I mean… you messed up too. But I don’t know. Did they say something?

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Quentin!”

The Dean sat back in his seat. “Glad you’re back with us, Penny. As I was saying, do you recall which spell you were trying to cast?”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. He just wanted to sleep. “It was some locator, I can’t really pronounce the name. We were trying to find a lost item? We chose one of my scarfs that’s probably hidden somewhere in the Physical Cottage. Eliot keeps stealing my shit.”

“I think I know what it was.”

Suddenly, heels clicked, and the voice of a certain sexy, blonde professor spoke up behind him. She laid a hand on Penny’s shoulder and he settled into it, privately happy to have her there. Sure, she was still a professor, but she was cool and helped him out (and she really was beautiful. He would sleep with her even if it wasn’t for school.)

Oh Jesus, dude, seriously? Sunderland?

Quentin-

“Spell for revealing the truth. Həqiqəti üzə çıxarmaq üçün yazın. It’s in Azerbaijani, and they had to translate it themselves if I’m not mistaken.”

Quentin nodded his head and his ridiculous fucking hair swung with it like a car wash. Penny grit his teeth. This whole situation was fucking fucked! Even the sight of Quentin sitting next to him, having to hear his thoughts, feel his hand chained to Penny’s -- it was driving him insane. The guy’s very existence could grate on his nerves, sometimes (especially when he was being an idiot and ruining life for Penny).

“Well, let’s go over your notes and see if we can find the problem that way.”

His wrist was roughly yanked as Quentin shuffled around in his bag and got the notebook they - 80% Penny - had been doing the work out of. There were pages of scribbled symbols, diagrams, and translations; hours and hours of work sent down the drain by an idiot. 

Might I remind you that, if you did eighty percent of the work, you’re eighty percent at fault here?

You know what? If this little dude wanted to talk back to Penny in his own fucking head then fine.

Might I remind you, I can make your miserable life even worse with a snap of my fingers? 

Quentin huffed and turned his head. Coward. Penny could feel thoughts from Quentin’s mind inside of his own, but he decided to ignore them for now; there were more important things to do. Like removing the leech on his arm.

“Oh,” Professor Sunderland gasped, and Penny looked up.

That didn’t sound like a good oh. If this was permanent - or if the cure cost him even a hair off of his ass - Penny was going to kill Quentin. 

You keep saying you’re going to kill everyone. Can you just hurry up and do it already, then?

Keep talking smart-ass, I’ll get you when you least expect it.

Blah blah blah. I know what you’re thinking! You can’t get the one up on me now. 

Penny scowled and turned back to Sunderland. He could feel Quentin gloating in his head but he ignored it, again, for the sake of maturity and his sanity. The notebook was propped up against a globe on the Dean’s desk and they all peered at it, reading first the original spell pasted in and then the scribbled translation next to it. 

İtirilmiş şeyi tapın. 

Gözlərimi bağlayın. 

Düşüncələrimi istiqamətləndirin. 

Məni uydurmalardan müəyyənləşdir. 

İtirilmiş şeyi tapın.

Find the one that was lost. 

Unblind my eyes. 

Guide my thoughts. 

Deter me from falsities.

Find the one that was lost.

“The one?” Sunderland’s voice came, next to Penny’s right ear, and he looked up at her. 

She looked nervous, which caused some anxiety to roll in his own gut; Quentin was feeling the same. Ten times as intense, of course, cause he was Quentin, but… the look on her face was bad. The whole situation was fucking bad. Quentin was so dead. 

“What’s wrong with it?”

She looked at Quentin. Fogg came around the desk and poured two fingers of brandy into two cups, handing one to each of them. They looked at each other as the chain around their wrists - keeping them together, per Lipson’s assistance - rattled. 

This is bad if he’s giving us alcohol to cut the news with.

“Your translation was off by one word, but it was a big one,” Sunderland began, her hand tightening on Penny’s shoulder. Somehow, it was no longer comforting -- he shrugged her off. She continued slowly. 

“The spell was used by ancient explorers to find lost items, usually in cursed areas. The goal was to set their sight on the one thing, and the one thing only, so they wouldn’t get distracted by sirens or other treasure or anything like that. What you did… instead of sending yourself on a hunt for a scarf, you sent yourself on a quest for “the one that was lost”. Somehow, you set each other up as the objects, and now the spell will try and deter you from anything that separates you.”’

[im-genie-for-your-wish]

“That’s my dragon.” [D.O.] (8/12)

Group: EXO Member: D.O Word Count: 1829 (chapter) / 13156 (total) Summary: Do Kyungsoo, stereotypical brooding genius who doesn't really play any role in your life... Until Dame Boah declares the two of you must take care of an dragon egg together to see who gets the chance to become a full-fledged Dragon Rider. With the stakes raised sky high, you struggle with your newfound archnemesis and your tumultuous relationship with him, learning a little (a lot?) about yourself along the way. Tags: Enemies to lovers

PART I  |  Part II  |  Part III  |  Part IV  |  Part V  |  Part VI  |  Part VII  |  Part VIII  |  Part IX  |  Part X  |  Part XI  |  Part XII  |  All

“Left.”

You launched your left fist forward, burying it deep into Minho’s padded hand. The trainer grunted once in approval.

“Right.”

Repeating the motion with your right fist, your mind wandered as muscle memory took over.

“Upper kick.”

You swiveled around, using one foot as a focal point as you extended your leg and smacked the strike pad straight off Minho’s hand. Your friend sighed. He tracked the trajectory of the runaway pad and turned to look at you.

“What’s up?”

You brushed a damp strand of hair away from your forehead. “Nothing.” Though the air was chilly with the upcoming hints of fall, you still sweat profusely during outdoor training sessions.

Minho looked in the direction of the pad and then back at you. You gave him your sweetest smile.

He crossed his arms. “I’m not getting that.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re such a…” You trailed off, grumbling all the while as you jogged over and picked up the offending item. You dropped it in front of Minho’s feet with a hmph. As if you were going to hand it to him. As Minho readjusted it on his hand, you summoned the courage to ask your burning question. “Minho, have you ever...you know...liked me?”

Minho whirled around. You blocked his punch with a swift arm movement, knocking his hand out of the way.

“Sorry,” he said with a cheeky smile, “just making sure you were still you.”

Understandable. You drummed your fingers on your knee. “It’s just—we've been friends for forever, and I’ve never liked you. Have you ever liked me?”

Minho threw another punch your way. “No, why are you asking though?” His eyes widened to comical proportions. “Do you like me?”

“I just said I didn’t like you!” you screeched, assaulting Minho with a barrage of punches.

“Good! Good!” he crowed. “You were holding back earlier. Usually you’d have kicked off both my mitts by now.”

You rolled your eyes and confirmed your question had been answered. People could just be friends without any weird feelings—unless of course you counted the feeling of pure unadulterated vexation as strange. While that answered one question, it raised another. What did you feel about Kyungsoo?

For the next month, you kept this question at the back of your mind. You enjoyed spending time with him sure, but did you really like him? He annoyed you to no end with his neat freak cleanliness levels, and you found some days you weren’t in the mood for his jokes. But other times you wanted nothing more than to poke his cheeks and hang out with him for the entirety of your day.

It was one of the latter days when Dame Boah called you and Kyungsoo out for a training session. You swung an arm around Kyungsoo’s shoulder. “Good luck out there today. You’ll need it.”

Kyungsoo laughed before slipping out from under your grasp and clambered up on Kel’s back. Kel, a pale yellow Asian Acidwing, was Kyungsoo’s choice of training steed. You, of course, stuck to your old buddy Bam.

“You’ll help me win, right?” you asked, stroking Bam’s snout. The black dragon huffed in agreement, and you climbed up the riggings of the saddle with ease. Having flown this course a million times before, you guaranteed victory.

“Don’t get cocky!” called Kyungsoo as he fastened his goggles. “Playing it safe will only result in your loss.”

“As if I could lose,” you hollered back, strapping on your goggles as well. Leaning forward, you kept your ears primed for Dame Boah’s signal. The instant the shot rang through the air, you were off. Bam’s powerful wings created a vortex of wind, and you gripped onto the pommel of the saddle, white-knuckled and sweaty-palmed. The first part of the course was simple, testing the accuracy of a rider’s turn. You guided Bam through the twists and turns without knocking over a single stone. The second part of the course was the tricky section.

As Bam nosedived, you wracked your brain for the best way to make it through the dense forest without hurting you or your dragon. Beside you, you heard Kyungsoo’s exuberant whooping as he pulled ahead of you, urging Kel on even faster.

That’s fine, you thought. Slow and steady wins the race. “Keep your eyes open!” you yelled over the rushing wind. Bam snorted in reply, and you pressed your body down low to the dragon’s neck. Despite your flattened surface area, the spindly branches of the forest trees managed to nick your exposed skin. “Watch out for that hornet’s nest!” You cursed as Bam veered to avoid the tree. How was Kyungsoo going so fast?

Then, above the howling of the wind, you heard the high-pitched whining of a distressed dragon. Peeling your head up from Bam’s scales, you peered into the distance. Kel’s wings beat at an awkward angle, sending both dragon and rider hurtling off course. Kel’s thick body slammed into a tree, and the forest trembled. You took it all in as if watching a movie, frame by frame, as Kyungsoo’s rigging loosened and he tumbled out of the saddle.

You screamed, a curious high-pitch sound, as you rammed our heels into Bam’s side. The dragon gave a mighty roar and dove toward the other unfortunate pair. Chest heaving, you licked your dry lips and ignored the jackhammer beating of your heart. As you drew closer and closer to the lone figure, your palms grew clammy, and you fought to keep a tight grip on the saddle. All you could think about was Kyungsoo—his shy smiles, his round wide eyes, his mellifluous voice, his everything.

“Get underneath him,” you choked out. Bam obeyed your order, shooting forward. You careened toward the earth. Black spots danced across your vision, a product of the sudden change in altitude. “Tactical strategy forty-three A…” You sucked in a shallow ragged breath. “Now!”

Bam spread out his wings, stalling the two of you midair, as you smashed the emergency landing crystal. Glittering shards of graphite and pink quartz, infused with magic, formed a net that absorbed Kyungsoo’s kinetic energy as he slammed onto Bam’s back. You battled for consciousness as Bam landed with a massive thud that knocked you out of your harness. Gripping onto the pommel, you pressed two shaky fingers to Kyungsoo’s neck, verified that he was still very much alive, and succumbed to the blackness encroaching on your vision.

When you woke up, someone was saying your name. Correction. Someone was crying your name. Static filled your ears, and you shook your head, pushing away the shaky hand on your shoulder.

“Dame Boah, she’s awake.” Kyungsoo’s concerned face swam into your vision.

You took in your surroundings. This certainly wasn’t where you used to be. “Oh shit.” You dropped your head into the palm of your hand, screwing your eyes shut as heat rushed to your cheeks. “Did I faint?”

“Yes, you did.” The cool touch of Dame Boah’s hand soothed the fire underneath your skin. “Drink this.”

You pinched your nose and downed the noxious concoction. The ringing in your ears faded, and you opened your eyes. Somehow you had been transported back to your room.

Dame Boah smiled down at you. “Now rest, young one. I will evaluate the two of you another time.”

“Thank you, Dame Boah,” you murmured as she glided out of the room. Then you propped yourself up and glared at Kyungsoo. “What happened out there?”

Kyungsoo perched on the edge of your bed, scuffing his shoe against the ground. “Kel flew into a hornet’s nest.”

You growled. “You mean you flew into a hornet’s nest. It’s the rider’s job to look out for the small details.” Frustration, hot and heavy, bubbled up underneath your skin. How could Kyungsoo have been so stupid? It was the first lesson taught to riders. Dragon vision was meant for long range distances, so riders would have to be their eyes for nearby objects. “It was right in front of you. Only an idiot would’ve missed it.”

Your scathing words ignited Kyungsoo’s temper. The man stood up and paced around the room, feet thumping onto the floor so hard that you thought he might crack the tiles. “It’s the rider’s job to make sure that all rescue operations are safe. You endangered yourself by changing altitude that quickly.”

You stared at him. Why was he so upset? He should just own up to his mistake! “Are you pinning this on me then?” you all but snarled. “What was I supposed to do, leave you there to die? Maybe you really are the self-centered idiotic jerk I thought you were.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you deflated, shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, Kyungsoo. I didn’t mean—”

But Kyungsoo had already leapt up from the bed and made his way to the hallway, slamming the door behind him.

“Fine, asshole,” you yelled, throwing your pillow at the door. “Watch me ever try to save your life again. To think I like—”

The door slammed open again, and Kyungsoo strode back in, back straight and eyes furious. “You don’t know.” He jabbed a finger in your direction and kicked your discarded pillow into the wall with a muffled thump. His usual pristine clothing was rumpled and dirty, and his hair flopped down over his eyes. “I worked damn hard to get to where I am, and I don’t need you or anyone else undermining my effort.”

“I worked hard too.” Your throat burned as you choked out the words. The familiar prickling behind your eyes warned you that you might cry. “I’m sorry that I’m not a prodigy like you. Do Kyungsoo, the prodigal son born with a golden spoon in his mouth because his father was already a famous rider.” The caustic words continued to spill from your lips. “Tell me exactly how hard you had to work to get into the academy.” The unspoken truth hung in the air.

Kyungsoo heaved a sigh. Without looking in your direction, he lobbed a package at you.

“What is this?” you questioned, but Kyungsoo was already gone. You unwrapped the package, ripping through the neat folds and cute patterned paper. Inside it was a book. Engraved in the leather cover were your initials along with a title: Caring For Your New Hatchling: A Beginner’s Guide. When you opened it to the first page, you choked. Kyungsoo’s neat handwriting filled each page along with exquisitely detailed diagrams of newborn dragons. As you flipped through the pages, a notecard fell out.

Sorry for missing your birthday, but we weren’t friends then. Hope this makes it up to you.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, closing the book and trying your best to wrap it back in its protective covering. However your sloppy unwrapping job made it impossible to put back together. You gave up, flinging the ruined wrapping paper onto the ground, and finally allowed yourself to cry.

[funkymeihem-fiction]

The A-Mei-Zing Outback Adventure- Chapter 20

The scene grew more chaotic the closer they got. There was the smell of oxidizing metal and circuitry all around them, acrid black smoke poisoning the air from things that were never supposed to be burned. It did nothing to dissuade the horde of junkers. Large chunks of hull and sentry turrets had already been cracked loose in the initial attack, and each chunk of ruin was swarming with men and women, ripping away whatever they thought could be scavenged or trying to fight whoever else got too close to their claims. There were also several bodies laying on either side of the road, but they lay mostly forgotten, save for an occasional figure scavenging the parts from them as well. Mei tried to see if the corpses were anyone from Overwatch, but they seemed to be junkers, taken out by the pulse turrets or (judging by one of the more decapitated ones) flying metal debris. She had never seen anything like this. For some reason they reminded her of insects, as though someone had foolishly disturbed an ant’s nest or a hornet’s hive. The junkers had no organization at all and attacked quickly, en masse, and without mercy. They swarmed over scrap like it was fresh meat. And the people around them were merely the stragglers, with the main pack still dogging the heels of the Orca ship as it steadily lost altitude. Roadhog blew past them, engine still roaring and tires kicking up red dust behind them. “Crikey, the whole fuckin’ outback’s showed up for this one!” Junkrat exclaimed, his grenade launcher at the ready as they passed by two junkers fighting viciously over a downed turret gun. “Bet there’s more on the way, too! Oi, I think I know that guy!” He pointed at the either unconscious or dead figure of another male junker on the ground as they sped by. “Well, I never liked him anyway.”

They rounded the bend of the shallow canyons, and were greeted with the almost impressive sight of the junkers in full force. Chaos was reigning. There were hundreds of them, jockeying for position as they pressed their attack. The vehicles they had cobbled together were less cars or trucks than they were monstrosities of war. Missile launchers had been tacked onto the beds of lorries and hover-cars carried men bristling with weapons, while jeeps equipped with spiked javelins and harpoons, laden with chains and ropes, dragged themselves in the sand in an attempt to hobble their prey. There were shields and spikes in abundance, war paint and decals and racing stripes, and a disturbing amount of effigies, strapped across them in a mish-mash of of leather straps and feathers and bones, animal and human alike. It was impressively tribal. The Orca was doing an adequate job of defending itself from the onslaught, at least, but it wouldn’t last. Turrets were firing from its bottom and shield generators struggled to keep up with the damage, but they could do little about the metal harpoons that were already scattered in its metal underbelly, dragging the attached junker vehicles along or entire sections of its metal armor coming loose and crashing to ground, to immediately be overrun and infested with the scrap hunters. Mei had no idea what to do. The other junkers were ignoring them as simply one amongst their number for now, but she had no way to hail the ship or let them know she was even here. Roadhog was wisely keeping them a safe distance away, enough to pursue but avoiding the explosions and gunfire as he weaved in and out of the other pursuit vehicles. They would be arriving at the designated meeting spot soon, and it seemed like there might be one chance and one chance only to get aboard. They followed until the Orca slowed and came to a stop, turning as abruptly as the immense ship was able, its back to the cliffs as it turned to face the junker hordes. There was the whirring clank of more turrets getting into position, and then a shimmer as its shields refreshed and a door to its cargo bay opened. Mei thrust one arm forward, “There! There, they’re waiting for us! Let’s go!” It should have been simple. Get to the ship, get picked up by Overwatch agents and brought aboard. But every other junker in the vicinity had seen the same door open, and they surged forward as if a living wave, and the motorcycle was quickly crowded out by the larger vehicles all around it. Roadhog rumbled a low curse, then nodded down to his partner, who was grinning and starting to vibrate in his seat. “Rat. Clear ‘em.” This time, Mei made no move to stop them, one hand on her pistol as she huddled into the side of the sidecar, taking hold of Junkrat’s leg to help steady him as he reared up with his frag launcher at the ready, giggling wildly. “Never thought you’d ask, mate!” Mei shut her eyes as there were several large booms and waves of heat from nearby, with the shrieking of both metal and people deafening in her ears, nearly drowning out Junkrat’s maniacal laughter. The motorcycle started moving again. Junkrat kept firing, grenades flying amongst the clouds of choking dust and embers, tongue waving from his mouth and practically slavering amongst the chaos. The motorcycle came to an abrupt stop as it hit something in front of them, the entire thing jolting back and then forward, Mei having to wrap both arms around Junkrat’s legs to keep him from going flying as he landed with a crash atop her in the sidecar. Something rose from the smoke in front of them, a cobbled-together metal monstrosity lifting up on two legs, machine-gun arms clacking noisily, and its junker pilot grinning at them from inside its metal control cage. “Aw fuck me, I hate fightin’ mechs,” Junkrat groaned, before grabbing onto Mei and launching both of them out of the sidecar, nearly dropping her as he ducked and rolled to the side, narrowly missing a rain of machine-gun fire at his ankles. They both landed in the dirt, scrambling upright on either side of the mech as it turned to face Roadhog, who was dismounting his motorcycle and angrily pulling his gun. “Get to the ship!” Mei called to them both, pulling her pistol and going to dash forward. The mech thrust one arm out to block her, but there was another boom and it fell slightly to one side, as one of Junkrat’s sticky mines hit its mark. She made a move to try and duck under it, but the barrel-guns of its arm swung and effectively clotheslined her across the chest, sending her flying back where she’d come from and sliding painfully on the rocky ground. It opened fire and she tried to roll, but a round of bullets sprayed her gut, and she screamed as she felt something tear open and start bleeding, pressing her sticky shirt over the ragged wound even as Junkrat bellowed in anger and positioned himself in front of her, fumbling to reload his grenades. “Kkeojyeo! Geim-eul hamyeon igyeoyaji!” Something very large and pink and vaguely rabbit-shaped landed with a crash of metal against metal, as D.Va’s MEKA slammed full-force into the junker mech. The other mech might have been larger, but it was far from nimble, struggling to even turn as the MEKA practically danced around him, bullets flying as its boosters sent it in agile dodging motions to and fro. From inside its protective pilot shield, D.Va blew a bubble with her gum and popped it impatiently, finally jamming both guns into the other mech’s core and firing, sending the whole thing crashing down as the junker inside ejected free and went scrambling. “Aw yeah! That makes me four-time reigning Australia mech-fighting champion! GG E-Z!” She struck a pose, both metal arms punching forward dramatically, before turning to face them. “Jamie! I thought I saw your weird hair out here!” “Oi, my hair ain’t weird!…Okay, it’s kinda weird,” Junkrat grumbled. “Give us a lift, won’t ya? Mei’s hurt and don’t have any more ice left.” “Sorry, not that kind of MEKA! And you’d be shot right off, I’ve never seen so many people here to fight! I’ll radio the others to let them know you’re coming in!” There was the rattle of more gunfire as more pulse rounds slammed into the MEKA’s side, causing her to shriek within. “Apa! Oh, you’re in for it now!” With that, her boosters flared white-blue and she went careening off back into the melee. Junkrat scratched at his self-admittedly weird hair. “Well, she’s clearin’ a path at least! You all right, love? Can y’walk?” Mei took his hand, hauling herself upright. “I-I think so? Oh! Jamie, you’re bleeding too!” He blinked in apparent surprise, looking to where a hole in his arm was also streaming liquid red. “Oh! Hey, guess I am! Eh, she’ll be right, I can still shoot. Oi, let’s grab Roadie and- Aw shite, we got company.” Roadhog had seemed to have gotten into an entirely different kind of trouble, and he and the bike were surrounded by a group of scavengers. Mei lifted her pistol, but to her surprise, the enormous junker was almost unmoving, and though the people around him milled about and bristled their weapons, none of them had made an actual move to attack him yet. “That ain’t him. It’s someone pretending to be him,” She heard one insist. “Who the fuck’d pretend to be him?” “Isn’t he the one who killed DogEater’s entire gang?” “That was him? Ripped t’fucking pieces…” “Yeah. That’s the real Roadhog, nobody wears a mask like that except Roadhog. Uh…you take ‘im first, I’ll go behind...” “You take ‘im. I ain’t fucking with the pig man,” a smaller man replied, backing into a retreat. Roadhog said nothing, as usual. His wheezing breath remained steady, rattling in and out past the mask’s filters, blank lenses still set upon the junkers facing him. Naturally reluctant to face a well-known bruiser that was over seven feet of fat, muscle, and silent rage, the men jostled and pushed at one another, none of them wanting to be the one to initiate combat and make themselves his target. And when Roadhog slowly lifted his immense hook, the metal catching the sunlight and glinting sharply, the enemy junkers seemed to reach their limit and suddenly and quickly dispersed into all directions, trying to find easier targets. “Hhm…” Roadhog said. “Knew there was a reason I kept you around, mate,” Junkrat grinned. “Besides your winnin’ personality.” “Mm.” The trio continued to struggle forward amongst the chaos, trying to maneuver through. She thought she could see occasional glimpses of other agents from time to time…Pharah’s rockets occasionally flared in the sky, and D.Va’s gaudy pink made for an almost obnoxious moving target as she saw it diving to and fro amongst the red and brown dust of the junkers around her. And despite all the screaming and blasting, she definitely heard Reinhardt’s booming voice, challenging all and sundry to come and face him. The junkers were fighting each other almost as much as their targets, and she nearly lost sight of her companions several times, sometimes firing off warning shots at those who saw her much tinier size and obvious wounds as an opportunity. But even her bodyguards’ gigantism couldn’t hold all of them off, and more than once both Junkrat and Roadhog were pulled away from her at once to try and keep the others at bay. She continued to try and struggle through, darting into and then out of a brawling group of junkers who were getting closer and closer to the dropship, when she saw a familiar flash of red, white, and blue fabric. Her expression lit up, immediately dashing towards it.  Soldier 76 was holding off a crowd of foes at once, pulse rifle rattling as he stood in front of the Orca’s open doors. The junkers were getting bolder and bolder as minutes went by, to the point where he was physically having to push them back at times as the bolder ones tried to rush him. He had been forced into a slow but steady retreat, and could barely pause to even reload without retaliation. And he was making another attempt to reload when one of the junkers rushed him yet again. This one was a surprisingly tiny woman, covered in blood and dust and very faintly yelling “76! 76 it’s me!” over the din as she made a beeline towards him. He lunged forward before she could properly react, launching one strike directly into her sternum. He heard her words cut off and she staggered, the wind knocked out of her, and he went to finish the job, his arm around her throat and swinging her up into the air before going to smash her down into the ground so he could take the shot... Mei barely managed to let out a strangled cry of “C-Commander Morrison!” He stopped immediately, almost freezing mid-air. The back of her head slammed audibly into the ground and she uttered a little noise of pain that sounded familiar, her glasses clattering onto the ground beside her and one of the lenses cracking…Since when did junkers wear glasses like that? He kept his forearm in her throat, her chin pressed upward and pinned, but paused to actually look at her. She looked different now. Her face was thinner and her cheekbones looked more hollowed out. Her eyes were shadowed and tired and squinted to see without her eyewear. She wore a headscarf with a familiar little piggy face on it, but there was precious little hair beneath it. No wonder he’d mistaken her at first glance, but it was definitely… “Mei?” he asked in a bewildered tone, easing his arm off her neck. “Is that-” “Get offa her, you senile old cunt!” Junkrat hit them both like an incoming freight train, his entire gangly mass hitting Soldier dead-center and ripping him from atop Mei like a charging bull. She landed sprawled on her back, the air still knocked out of her. Junkrat had dragged his stunned target some feet away, his fists clenched in the namesake 76 jacket, and went to slam Soldier rather brutally into the ground several times, spitting curses and nearly foaming at the mouth. But Soldier 76 was a seasoned veteran who had dealt with more than an enraged junker in his time. He recovered and he retaliated, and the two quickly became a mess of wrestling limbs and jabbing fists as they fought, and their guns were entirely too close by for comfort. Mei’s head spun as she righted herself, sitting up and trying to yell at them. Her breath came out as a pathetic wheeze, her lungs still emptied as she inhaled and tried again, holding her chest. She tried to call out, trying to identify herself and order Junkrat and Soldier off each other, but only a few words made it out and it sounded more like she was trying to scold a misbehaving dog. “Jamie!…No! Down!” To her surprise, it worked. Junkrat managed to kick Soldier off of him, jamming a boot into the other man’s belly as he scrambled out of the melee, hurrying back to Mei’s side and helping her upright. Soldier stood as well, holding his gun warily at ease as he faced them both. “Mei-Ling? And…Agent Junkrat. Hm.” His gravelly voice showed a hint of clear displeasure. “Didn’t see that it was you.” “Who the bloody fuck else would it be!” Junkrat sneered, fingering the trigger of his grenade launcher even as Mei tried to keep him at bay. “That’s a fine howdoyado! We called you to rescue her, not to fuckin’ end the job!” “It’s fine! I should have identified louder, it’s my fault! I’m sorry, let’s not fight!” Mei protested, even as she pressed both hands to his chest and tried to push him back, leaving red smears across his shoulders. “You ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, love! It’s this drongo here-!” “I thought she was another junker,” Soldier growled, “I’ve never seen her like th-” Several bullets spattered into the rock above them and peppered them with dust, causing all three to duck and immediately forget their squabble. Soldier lifted his pulse rifle and immediately began firing back, backing away to help shepherd the two towards the ramp. A gloved hand reached up to flick at something on his tactical visor, which glowed vivid red as the holographic field displayed before him, locking onto his targets one by one as they came into view. Junkrat put aside his grudge at least long enough to help, slamming another case of grenades into his launcher’s feed as another round of frags went sailing into the air. “You get inside, find the doc. I’ll be back in just a tick. Oh, I’m gonna enjoy this,” Junkrat said, his grin widening and baring his teeth. Mei lifted a hand to stop him but he was already gone, bounding off into the chaos with no small amount of glee. Soldier followed after him not long after, still uselessly trying to order the junker about. Llimping and bloody, with no ammo left for her gun and her glasses cracked on one side, Mei finally headed up the ramp and into the rescue ship. It was a little strange to be back, back in the familiar belly of the vehicle where she’d deployed from so many times before, usually sitting as far away from the junkers as possible. She immediately slumped into her favorite chair, coughing a little and wishing she had a communicator to let the others know. She felt a little thrill of hope in the pit of her belly, though she wondered if that also might have been a side effect of the blood loss from her gut. “Hello? Is anybody else here?” she called. “Mei! Mei, love, is that you!” Tracer’s voice, cheerful but more than a little stressed, sounded up by the front. The little pilot clearly had her hands full, numerous buttons blinking and beeping urgent messages from all sides of her as she flicked some of them on and off, her gaze roaming constantly over various screens and gauges all over the control board. “It’s me, Lena! I’m so glad to see you again. I’d offer a hug…” She winced a little, still holding her hand to her side. When she looked down and peeled it away, her palm was smeared with red. “Oh! Maybe another time, don’t let me forget! A bit busy myself, here, or I’d greet you proper! But once we’re back-” The whole ship shuddered as there was another boom outside, and Tracer grasped a hold of the yoke, pulling it upward as she struggled to maintain control. “Oh bugger! Not sure how long we can keep this up! Athena, get everyone back on board so we can get out of here! If we can get out of here!” She no longer wore a communicator, but Mei could almost hear the soothing tones of Athena’s vocal systems in her head, relaying the orders of hasty retreat in her ever-polite manner. She slumped down into a seat, the one she usually took on their missions, tucked away in a corner. Snowball buzzed about happily before spotting its favorite charging station, settling onto the plug as its visor went dark. Mei smiled at it a little, glad at least someone was entirely happy about their return, before turning to watch as the other agents returned, one by one. Roadhog was wheeling the half-broken remains of his motorcycle up the ramp, resolutely ignoring Soldier 76’s bellowing to leave it behind as he provided cover fire. Pharah had been shot down and rather haphazardly tossed over the massive shoulders of Reinhardt as he backed slowly into the cargo area, shield upright. D.Va’s MEKA landed with a booming crash outside, metal feet clanking as she steered it inside. Then all eyes immediately turned when there was a shrieking whistle outside and an explosion, and Junkrat’s blurry form was spinning through the air and into the cargo bay, singed form leaving a trail of black smoke as he went skidding along the floor before coming to a stop with a painful-sounding thud against the far wall, his spindly legs bent nearly double over his head before slumping sprawled out and face down on the floor. “Jamison!” Mei called in alarm, starting to stagger upright. “I swear, Mr. Fawkes, the situations you get yourself into…” Mercy’s voice somehow always sounded so gentle, even when irritated. She cut an angelic figure as she appeared amidst the smoke and dust, valkyrie wings glowing and coming to a gliding landing next to the downed junker. A little check-over and a quick glow of her Caduceus Staff seemed to do the trick, and a moment later Junkrat was groaning and holding his rattled skull as he awkwardly rolled onto his back. “That was a good one, mate,” he wheezed, coughing up a black cloud as Roadhog’s huge fingers suddenly closed around his head, carelessly dragging him up and setting him back on his feet. Mercy rolled her eyes slightly before pausing, catching sight of the other junker that had mysteriously appeared on the other side of the ship. She approached with a hand raised, concern written all over her face. “Oh Mei-Ling…” she breathed out, going to gingerly place her fingers on her shoulder almost as if to check she was real. She’d seen her only briefly and rather blurrily, on that fuzzy old camera from their safehouse broadcast. But she looked so different in person. She didn’t even look like the same person, really, and the only clue it was her at all was the dimpling in her cheeks and a faint glint in her dark eyes that looked like the old Mei. “Dr. Ziegler. It’s good to see you again. Um…I think I might need some help?” Mei said, and peeled her hand away from her gut with an unpleasantly sticky noise. “Oh! Of course. Und, wo tut's jetzt weh?“ Mercy’s brows rose, quickly moving into action with the same grace as always. The staff lit up soothing yellow, and Mei relaxed immediately as its gentle glow enveloped her, eyes drifting shut almost in a daze. It was the first real healing her body had been able to do in months, and while normally the sensation of billions upon billions of glowing nanobot swarming her body, wounds knitting themselves shut and flesh sealing neatly under the skin was something Mei had always found a little eerie, it felt so wonderful that it rendered her into a stupor. She didn’t even notice Mercy’s increasingly worried expression, her eyes glued to the little display on her staff and her mouth moving in unheard muttering. “Ach Du meine Güte…I think perhaps we’d best move you to the med bay for now? Nothing to fret over, just, taking a few precautions. Reinhardt, if you wouldn’t mind helping me move-” “Oi, I’ll get her! C’mere, love!” Junkrat perked immediately from his seat, lifting both ash-covered hands to help. Mercy turned a stern gaze upon him, holding up a hand. “That will not be necessary, Mr. Fawkes. We are very thankful that you are all back and mostly in one piece, but I’m afraid that our investigation into the situation is still pending and Mei is…less medically sound than I previously thought. Until we can get a better handle on the whole thing, I’d like you and your partner to remain as you are. Reinhardt, if you would please take her to the bay table?” “That ain’t fuckin’ fair! I know what you’re doing!” Junkrat protested, pointing in an accusatory way towards the medic and the immense armored German man now gently lifting his charge. “You got no idea what’s happened to us and we don’t have to tell you a fuckin’ thing, so how about you and your monkey take your investigation an’ shove it right up your beautiful angelic-” “You vill not talk to Angela like that!” Reinhardt boomed aloud, angrily whirling upon the junker with Mei still in both arms. “Well, maybe you all shouldn’t be talking to him like that,” D.Va remarked a little snidely. “We’ve been fighting off crazy people in this crappy desert for a rescue mission, and now we finally do rescue Jamie and the others, and you immediately want to investigate him because, what, he kissed your friend?” Soldier 76 was already strapped in and waiting to go, his face in both palms. “This is why I always thought interdepartmental fraternization should have been banned.” “Please don’t fight,” Mei said weakly. “Hey!” Tracer’s voice suddenly blared over the intercom. “Would someone please just move the lady and get everyone strapped in, because I’m turning this old girl around and we’re still under attack here, just in case you’ve forgotten! Oh! Damnit! Brace yourselves!” The ship abruptly pitched to one side, causing everyone not strapped in to stumble and Junkrat to land square on his ass as his peg went out from under him. But at least it seemed to resolve the situation, as Reinhardt quickly righted himself and hastily moved Mei into the tiny ship med bay as Mercy bustled about her, strapping her into place and covering her with a blanket as she bustled about. Mei craned her neck from side to side, and was briefly glad of the straps when the ship lurched to and fro before struggling up into the air. She could hear the pinging of more bullets and javelins against the underside of the ship, one last desperate attempt by the attacking junkers to bring it back to ground, before the thrusters all activated at once and the Orca went surging forward, the G forces so strong that they sent Mei careening to one side on the table and Mercy dropped her staff to hold on to her chair’s handles with both hands. But soon the ship slowed to more manageable speeds and the doctor was fussing over her again, pressing and prodding her beneath the blanket and occasionally tapping things into her pad. “I’m sorry to cause such a fuss, Dr. Ziegler,” Mei said, even as the sounds of another argument started up from the room next door. “Junkrat and Roadhog are sick too, don’t forget to make sure they’re okay, please.” “It’s fine, I’ll be checking on them in just a moment. I can tell you’re fretting. Don’t worry. You haven’t done anything wrong, Mei…Well, other than cut communications when we still wanted to talk to you, but that was merely another little matter that just got a bit out of hand. It’s all merely a collection of things that got out of hand. I’ve already spoken to Winston about it, it is all being handled.” “I…noticed Winston isn’t here?” “Ah, no. Winston could unfortunately not attend. But I assure you he wanted to, and he was the first on the list until an emergency called him away. It’s nothing you’ve done, and you don’t need to worry. Now just try to relax, you might feel a pinching sensation…” “Okay,” Mei said a bit unhappily, not entirely sure she believed the good doctor. “You know, the junkers haven’t done anything wrong either. I know that during the call, things got a little- Owch!” “There’s that pinching sensation, dear.” “It’s like you said, Dr. Zeigler, it just got…a little out of hand. I wasn’t feeling myself. I’m more than happy to start my report right away! If you would just get me a tablet, I’m sure we’ll have a few hours where I can work and start to get everything cleared up.” “I would not be feeling myself either, with these levels of radiation sickness, weight loss, sun poisoning, and other afflictions..Not to mention fresh bullet wounds, and I understand you were mistakenly punched by one of our own? As much as I know you want to start getting organized, I must insist that the only thing you’re going to be doing right now is resting,” Mercy chided. “It’s amazing you’re doing as well as you are, considering your state. Now, take two of these-” She handed Mei two pills and a water, watching with a hawk-like gaze until she was sure Mei had taken them both. “-And try to concentrate on resting, if you must concentrate on anything.” “I’ll be fine. What about the others?” “If I believed that I could get either of the junkers to start taking their medicine and resting properly, I would do so. I have tried, believe me I have tried. The first time I tried to lock Junkrat into a private room with just a bed so he could begin recovery, he had apparently hidden a charge on his person and then blew the door controls…I think it might have been in his ear canal. I distinctly remember checking his mouth and nose and…other places… ” She coughed, abruptly turning her back and starting to fill a syringe with clear liquid. “That sounds like something he would do,” Mei admitted with a sigh, before shaking her head abruptly, “Wait, you mean you checked his-” “Most likely a technique he picked up in the various prisons he’s frequented,” Mercy said smoothly, sitting down next to her patient and motioning for her to look away before taking her arm and administering a careful injection. Mei winced and glanced away, waiting until the cool swab of cotton wiped over the spot. Mercy continued on, voice softening slightly. “I know you might think we are being hard on the junkers…your friends. But I have nothing against them and I assure you that I will do everything I can to make sure that both of them are as healthy and hale as I can. If we held a grudge against everyone who’s ever been imprisoned or on the wrong side of the law, I would have an awful lot of free time on my hands. But we still have protocol to follow, Mei, you know that.” “You don’t believe I really have Stockholm Syndrome, do you?” “I thought at first you might have been in trouble, I will admit. I was worried. We all were. We had no information about you, Junkrat, or Roadhog. You three had vanished off the face of the earth. Then you suddenly re-appeared from nowhere. There were signs of bondage on your wrists and you were clearly hurt and sick…” “I’m so sorry we worried you…” Mei couldn’t help but give a little half smile. “And don’t let Jamison hear the word bondage.” “Mei! Goodness, maybe you really have been spending too much time around the junkers.” “Sorry. But I tried to explain what happened, and then the moment I start talking about how they helped me, Winston suggested it was all just a trick of the mind? I just…That made me angry. I’m sorry, but I did, I got angry.” “It’s not so simply cut and dry as that. I believe that you faced unimaginable difficulties and bonded with the only two people around you that you could rely on. Such bonds can become very deep. We’ll have to wait on a full psychological profile after this, but…honestly, after the trauma you’ve faced, you becoming  close with Mr. Fawkes is near the very bottom of my list of concerns. And Winston was just-” She sighed a bit, patting Mei’s arm. “I don’t want to speak for him, but I hope you and he can clear things up with each other. He’s been frantic, searching for you these months, and I believe both of you were simply…shall we say, overwhelmed.” Mercy’s voice was getting further and further away as the medicine started to take hold, but Mei found herself agreeing with whatever it was she was saying. “I know, Doctor Ziegler…I just…This just isn’t how I thought things would go…according to plan…” she said, slurring a bit as she focused on the spinning ceiling. “Things rarely do,” the doctor’s voice replied distantly. She kept telling herself she was safe now. The rescue mission hadn’t exactly gone off without a hitch, but she was safe. Junkrat and Roadhog were safe. After everything they had gone through, it was over. They could head back to the base, start the long process of getting better, and maybe, just maybe, things could go smoothly from here? She gave a strange, reedy little laugh as she started to slip into unconsciousness, even causing the doctor to pause and check over her once more. Who was she kidding? Things never went smoothly for someone like her.

[seventeen-central]

Catch Me If I Fall pt. 2 - Dino Angst/Fall (Gang!AU)

Word Count: 1889

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Violence, Death

Member/Group: Chan (Dino) of SEVENTEEN

Summary: It’s been almost a year since the last time SEVENTEEN and BTS crossed paths. This time, will everybody be able to walk away from the fight?

 Dino snuggled into your warm body as another day began at the headquarters. The past year had been complete hell for you; days went by where you could barely look people in the eyes after the trauma you had experienced when you were captured by one of the most feared gangs in the country. It was not easy to relieve your mental state to the way it was before, but life had definitely gotten better for your group after everything had settled down. 

 A few months after life had returned to normal, SEVENTEEN just happened to climb up the ladder of wealth. The HQ was now lavishly decorated and many rooms had been added. All of this was unknown to the police and general public, but all the boys had come to love the opulent life they now lived. There was no longer any worries about not being able to pay the bills, and Dino had even managed to snag enough cash to buy a special ring and propose to you. Both of you had decided it was best to put the wedding off for now, as the most important thing on your mind was revenge; more specifically, revenge targeted at BTS for their ill treatment of you. 

 “Mmm... Jagiya, do you want me to make us some pancakes?”

 “What about the others? Won’t they be hungry?”

 “They aren’t sleeping with me, so they can get off their butts to make their own dang pancakes.” Another thing you loved about your fiancé, he never cussed if not provoked. Even when he was getting a bullet removed from his shoulder, the biggest reaction that had arisen was him saying ‘mother trucker’. He was definitely pure at heart, but that was just another reason to love him.

 He peeled the sheets back and the cold air nipped at your skin causing goosebumps to form along your exposed arms. You could hear the light padding of his feet as he made his way to the kitchen in your little ‘one-room apartment’. In actuality, it was probably larger than most apartments and it had a better security system than the white house. The entrance to the room opened, and you suddenly felt a crushing weight on your upper body.

 “Seungkwan, get the fuck off me before I throw you onto the stove.” A loud groan escaped your mouth as the sassy boy was pushed onto the carpeted floor.

 “Hey, I just came to remind you guys that the final planning is happening today. If all goes well, we could be breaking into their base by tonight!” Seungkwan’s bright tone caused you to shoot him a dirty look. He raised his hands in defense as he slowly backed out the door to the hallway. The smell of bacon wafting in your direction caused you to finally rise from the bed and sluggishly step into the kitchen.

 You walked to your loving boyfriend that was slaving over the production of pancakes, and wrapped your arms around his waist. His back muscles tensed under your touch, and he simply looked down at you before continuing to make breakfast.

 “Jagi, go sit down and I’ll bring you your food. Do you want strawberries on your pancakes?” 

 “Yes please, babe. I’ll set the table.” You skipped to the pantry and grabbed the honey and syrup to bring over to the table. It took very little time to ensure that the space was completely ready to be used for the meal, so when you finished you went back to lay on the bed for a few minutes. 

 Dino called you over, and you both finally were able to sit down to breakfast. Within mere minutes, you both had wolfed down your share of the food and praised Dino’s cooking talent. When you were finally done, you both decided to do the dishes together. ‘Dish washing’ turned into ‘how many times can I spray water at you’ very quickly. It ended with both of you soaking wet, but at least the dishes were done.

 “Babe, I’m going to go get dressed.” Dino nodded your way, and you both began to get ready for the day.

 “Okay, so do we all know how this is going to work now?” The boys and you hummed in agreement with Woozi’s idea. He was the mastermind behind the whole plan, and he was staying behind to hack into the security cameras and help you guys using ear-pieces. The remaining thirteen of you walked out to the freshly painted van, and S. Coups leaped into the drivers seat. Everybody buckled their seatbelts and checked one last time that they had extra ammo for their weapons. Dino was patting your back sympathetically as you looked at your lap, completely unable to bring yourself enough courage to look at BTS’s hideout again.

 “Okay, lets move out guys. Keep your weapons on standby, and make sure that they don’t know we have guns.” Wonwoo instructed everybody as they climbed out of the van one by one.

 You kept a tight hold on Dino’s arm as the group walked to the side of the building. About half a foot off the ground, there was the opening of an air conditioning vent that was only held on by screws.

 “Woozi, is this the one?” Vernon tapped the earpiece and waited for a response from the dark haired computer genius.

 “That is the one. Be careful not to crawl in too close together, the shaft may be made of thinner metal than we thought and you do not want to end up somewhere other than Jin’s office.” Everybody nodded to each other as Vernon used a screwdriver to pull off the covering of the vent.

 The boys entered the shaft one by one, until it was just you left behind.

 “(Nickname), stay close to me. It shouldn’t be long before they realize we’re here.” The vent was a tight squeeze, but you had just enough room to lay on your stomach and wriggle forward like the boys in front of you.

 “We are coming to the exit, guys! Get ready to drop!” The sound of screws being undone echoed through the small metal space, and you heard the boys crawl out one by one. When you finally pulled yourself into an open hallway, you couldn’t help but notice how empty the hallway was.

 “Dino, I think they are waiting for us. They know we’re here...” Dino got the attention of Wonwoo and he nodded in agreement. 

 The winding hallways intersected like a maze. Each time you turned right or left, you felt as it you were slipping further into a black hole with no chance of escape. When your feet finally stopped in front of a large oak doors with no windows in sight, you knew you had arrived.

 As if done by a ghost, the large doors swung open to reveal a dark office with all the members of BTS waiting in chairs.

 “How nice of you to join us! Ah, you brought the girl too. Maybe this time I’ll let Kookie get some alone time with her; I bet she’d enjoy it.” You wanted nothing more than to slap the smirks off the seven boys faces, but you held that back and kept your blank facade up.

 All of SEVENTEEN stepped further into the room, only to have the doors swing shut behind them. The cold, metal barrel of a gun was instantly placed to the back of each person’s head, and Rap Monster stood up.

 “It’s so nice that we have you here, I feel like I’m getting rid of a hornets nest or something! You are missing shrimpy though... what a shame.” Dino’s hand squeezed yours and your fingers slipped onto the gun you had hidden in your coat.

 As if by magic, all thirteen of you drew your guns out and managed to get rid of the guards that were ready to pull the trigger.

 “So you want to play hard to get? I’m sorry, I really hate games.” The seven boys in front of you each drew handguns out of their pockets as their leader snickered. “Don’t worry, I’ll make your deaths quick. They won’t be painless, but they will be quick.”

 “That’s what you think, huh?” As soon as the words left S. Coups’ mouth, fire broke out between the two gangs. Bullets whizzed past your body, but none of them actually hit you. After a few round of fire, all of BTS was on the ground with their eyes closed in eternal slumber.

 “Let’s get out of here, the job’s done.” The door was pried open and everybody began to walk out. If only somebody had checked to see if they were all really dead, maybe then they would have noticed Jimin lifting his head with all his effort and sending a bullet spiraling towards your boyfriends back.

 Dino made a sound that resembled a choke, and every person turned around in time to see crimson pooling across his chest and the surprise in his eyes. You ran forward and let him lean of you while The8 and Seungkwan ran back into the room to finish the job. The tears you were blinking back robbed you of your sight, so you had to let Mingyu lead you to the van.

 “Woozi, Dino’s down with a bullet wound to the left side of his chest. Get the medical equipment ready, we’re driving back.” Jeonghan hurriedly spoke over his earpiece as he pulled back Dino’s shirt to examine the wound. The good thing was that the bleeding was slowing down thanks to the pressure you had been applying to your boyfriend’s chest, but the bad news was there was no sign of an exit wound. This meant more work for Jeonghan, as he was the only person with any experience in the medical field. 

 “Pliers, please.” The beep of the heart monitor seemed to taunt you as you watched Jeonghan attempt to pull the bullet from his best friend’s chest. 

 Thank god that by the time you had returned to HQ, Woozi had been able to basically set up a whole room that was prepped for surgery. He had also managed to find anesthesia, which definitely helped your piece of mind as you watched Dino being operated on.

 “Okay, I think I’ve got the bullet. Bring the bowl over.” The clink of metal hitting plastic caused a calm fog to settle over the whole room. You watched as Jeonghan stitched the wound closed, then left you to speak with your boyfriend.

 “Lee Chan, I swear to God if you ever scare me that bad again I might just die!” Your boyfriend hazily looked up at you.

 “Shhh! Don’t use my real name, they might track me down or something!” Dino giggled as he settled further into the sheets. Clearly, the anesthesia was still in effect.

 “You’re lucky I love you so much... but thank you for risking your life for me.” You whispered into his ear as you tucked him into the warm sheets and left him to recover from the day he just had.